


Untitled Gratuitous Glam Rock/CW RPS Spanking Fic

by Shakespeares_Girl



Category: Glam Rock RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Crossover, D/s, M/M, Multi, Other, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeares_Girl/pseuds/Shakespeares_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One thing leads to another, and Adam Lambert finds himself guest starring on the CW television series "Supernatural."  It's really not what he was expecting.  At all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Gratuitous Glam Rock/CW RPS Spanking Fic

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of written as a fill for a prompt on the Glam Kink Meme, but since I don't feel like it really fulfilled all the requirements of the prompt, I'm posting it here without a link.
> 
> And yes, there is m/m spanking in this fic, and yes, it is Adam Lambert who gets spanked, and no, you probably shouldn't read this if that doesn't tip your canoe.

It's really weird how this whole thing came about.

See, first there was the Glee appearance. Which was awesome, and he totally got to show the world that he could really act, and it wasn't just a ploy or whatever the fuck. Plus, singing! And that Chris Colfer kid was cute, and he'd had a whole scene with him, where his character and Chris' character were dancing around the whole sexual tension thing, and Kurt had explained to Adam's character (also called Adam) about his sucky first kiss, and finally Kurt had gotten the on-screen kiss he deserved, which epic!

And then through that, somehow, there was a Gossip Girl appearance, and while he was on set there—which was totally awesome, because Leighton Meester was just so cute, and funny, too, and he kept getting to stare at Chase Crawford's ass—someone called and asked if he'd like to do a quick appearance on Supernatural. He was all set to say no, because really, scary shows weren't his thing, they were Tommy's, and he wasn't sure his whole vibe would go over that great with the Supernatural audience, but Tommy himself called and told him that if he didn't do the appearance, he was going to with-hold tongue-kissing privileges for a whole week. So Adam agreed to do the part.

It was surprisingly easy being on the Supernatural set. No one took themselves too seriously, and the episode featured Sam and Dean going undercover at a performance venue the same night a glam rock show was set to perform in order to, as Jared Padalecki explained it, “gank a ghost before it ganked someone on stage.” Adam wasn't clear on the details of how, exactly one “ganked” a ghost, but since he didn't have to do that scene, and his character was the super-fabulous rock star the boy saved, he wasn't going to complain. Jensen and Jared were great, Misha Collins, who kept popping in even though he didn't have any scenes the two days Adam was around, was hilarious, and Jim Beaver, who was doing second unit work, was one of those completely and totally smart men that Adam just loved to talk to.

By the end of his two-day shoot, Adam felt like part of the family. He just wished he'd realized that becoming part of the family meant he was probably going to be hazed.

Sure enough, at the end of his shoot, just after they called wrap for the day, Jared Padalecki grabs his arm. “Where're you going?” he asks, voice stretching out into a drawl. “We're not done with you just yet.”

“But I thought--” Adam starts glancing down at the hand clamped around his arm. Jared has really big hands.

“Oh, sure, the crew is done with you, but Jensen and I, we have something . . . else we want from you first,” Jared rumbles, voice gone dark and sexy.

Adam thinks of quite a few things he'd like to do with Jared and Jensen, but puts that firmly out of his mind. None of those things could be exactly what he'd meant, anyway. Just as he's about to ask for clarification, Jensen comes up on his other side and wraps his own hand around Adam's wrist.

“Is Jared here scaring you?” he asks, pad of his thumb rubbing the inside of Adam's wrist and doing all sorts of delicious things to his libido.

“Not particularly. I'm just a little confused?” he tries.

“Then I'm doing something wrong,” Jared frowns, and before Adam knows what's going on, Jared's twisted around and managed to somehow get Adam over his shoulder. Jensen laughs at Adam's shocked expression. “Scared now?”

“Only that you're going to drop me,” Adam teases, pretty sure he knows—and likes—approximately where all this is going. He fists his hands in the back of Jared's wardrobe and hangs on as he's carried through the trailers toward the one he recognizes as Jared's. “Or possibly knock my head against something, you freakishly tall man, you.”

It comes out flirtier than he'd intended, and Jared laughs. Jensen smirks. “He won't drop you,” Jensen promises. “But he has banged my head against things before. I keep asking his mamma what she put in his Wheaties, but she won't tell me.”

“That's cause my mamma knows I like you shorter than me,” Jared banters back.

“So, you boys are together?” Adam asks. He's seen the way they look at each other, the way they're almost constantly in each other's orbit, and to him that screams just one thing—boyfriends.

“Yeah, actually. You're the first guest star to guess that and not just write it off as weird brotherly character bleed,” Jensen grins. “Watch his head, you giant.” Jared manages to bend lower just in time. Adam smiles gratefully at Jensen. “We're together. We have an understanding with the rest of the cast and crew. It's all very don't ask don't tell. You aren't going to say anything, are you?” It's said in fun, but Adam catches the real fear behind Jensen's tease.

“Not a word,” Adam shakes his head. “Where's the fun in knowing a secret if I don't keep it that way?”

Jared is the one to laugh at that. “Can we keep him, Jen?”

“I don't think so,” he shakes his head. “His bass player would probably kick our asses if we tried it.”

Now Adam's giving an appraising look. “Very astute,” he grins. “And yes, Tommy would totally kick your asses. He may be small, but he's very determined and he knows how to use his lower center of gravity against you.”

“So, since all three of us are taken,” Jared drawls lazily, tossing Adam down onto a very comfortable couch, “mind filling the class in on why you made me kidnap an international superstar?”

“Jared, remember a few weeks ago, when you told me about that fantasy you had?” Jensen asks. From the look on Jared's face, he remembers. Jensen turns to Adam. “He wants to hold someone down and spank them, hard and long, until they're shaking and crying and begging for it to stop. I let him try on me,” Jensen shrugs. “But we've been doing fight choreography too long, and I totally know how to get away from him when I want to.”

Adam feels an illicit thrill zing through his blood. “So I would be here to--” his mouth is suddenly dry. “To help fulfill this fantasy?”

Jensen smiles wide. “Consider it your official hazing.”

“You should consider yourself lucky it's us and not Misha,” Jared says thoughtfully. “Misha nearly put Richard in a mental institution over those panties.”

“That was a great psych-out,” Jensen agrees. “Misha is the undefeated champion of the mind-fuck.”

“Um, guys? Can we get back to the part where you're going to spank me?” Adam asks. “How exactly is this going to work?”

“Easy,” Jensen shrugs. “Jared's going to bend you over some flat surface, probably the kitchen table, and spank you. I'm going to watch and help holding you down if I need to. Mostly I'm going to enjoy the show.”

Adam licks his lips. “I—okay.” He blinks a few times. “This is not really what I expected when they said they had a part for me on Supernatural.”

Jared grins. “We like to surprise our fanbase.”

“I'm not a fan,” Adam points out.

“Your bass player is,” Jensen reminds him. “You said so yourself.”

“You know what would be nice?” Jared asks.

“What?” Adam and Jensen ask together, one curious, one nervous. Adam starts edging toward the door, unsure if he's going to be able to go through with this.

“We should totally tape this and send a copy home with Adam. So his bassist can watch. Bet he'd totally get off on it,” Jared suggests.

“Ooh, yeah, good idea,” Jensen agrees.

“Guys, I don't know about this,” Adam protests.

“We should also totally tie him up,” Jared decides. “At least the wrists. Think how pretty he'd look bent over our table with his wrists tied behind his back and my hand pinning him down?”

“Shit, that would be pretty,” Jensen agrees. “I think we still got the practice ropes in here somewhere, right?”

“Should be in the storage bin over there,” Jared agrees. He also takes a step so he's blocking the door. Jensen opens a few cupboards and finally comes back with ropes. “I'd better pin him down, first,” Jared decides, eying Adam. “He looks like he'll fight if we don't.”

“On go,” Jensen instructs. “Grab his waist or twist an arm. Like in sparring practice the other day.”

“Got it,” Jared nods.

Adam's heart leaps. He's both freaked out and really turned on by the back and forth between the two. That they're planning out how to capture and tie him down just makes it that much more sexy. “I—I don't know about this,” he tries again. But the heartbeat throbbing in this throat says that he knows exactly what he wants, and it's really, really not to get away.

“One,” Jensen counts, “two,” and Adam takes a deep breath, eyes darting around trying to find an escape and knowing he won't. “Go!”

Jared does this twisty, spinny move that looks like it would translate really well into dance choreography, and distracts Adam into letting him pull his arms behind his back and force him over the kitchenette table. He can feel Jared grinning above him, even though he can't see it. A second pair of hands fumbles over him, tying his wrists together, tight enough he knows he's not getting out, but loose enough it's not going to cut off circulation. His chest does a strange clenching lurch, and he gasps as Jared reaches around and yanks his jeans open to pull them down. His pants don't go far, just far enough to bare his ass for Jared's hand. Adam thinks his heart might actually pound it's way out of his mouth in a minute.

“Ready?” Jared asks, and Adam tries to get breath to say “yes” but Jensen's answering, and he realizes they're not talking to him. He whines a little, but over his heartbeat, he can hear the wet smack of Jensen and Jared kissing. He kind of wishes he could watch. He hears the wet smack as they pull apart and can't help the blush that spreads over his cheeks at the sound of something so intimate.

“All set. We're live,” Jensen announces a moment after he steps back away from Jared and Adam.

Adam can feel Jared's attention shift back to him, and he's not sure if that's really good or really bad. He can feel his body tense in anticipation.

The fuck of it is, Jared's good. He starts in with a peppering of light smacks, just hard enough to be something without being too hard to start off with. Adam gasps out at the shock of it, the amazing feel of being utterly at someone else's mercy, the wicked thrill of the voyeurism of Jensen and the possibility that he's being filmed in such a vulnerable position. Jared speeds up and slaps a little harder, then stops, chuckles. Adam whines at him, not wanting him to stop and wanting to know what's so funny, but finding his words missing.

“Jesus. You're just so—I don't think I expected you to be this perfect. And Jen,” Jared adds, turning toward Jensen. “He's got freckles.”

Adam moans at that, blushing again. He really hates those freckles.

“Wonder if I can get him so red you can't even see them anymore,” Jared muses, hand coming down in a quick series of sharp smacks. There's a dark chuckle from where Jensen watches. Jared lays one good, hard spank across Adam's ass, then stops. He trails fingers over Adam's ass, tickling where Adam's tensed for the smack of skin on skin. Just as Adam's relaxing into things, Jared swings again, and Adam looses track of how many times Jared's hand falls, squirms and tugs at the ropes around his wrists and moans a little, shifting to try and get away, but stopped by his own pants around his knees and Jared's big hand pressing him into the table. Jared spanks him hard, harder, and Adam gasps around a whine.

“That's it,” Jared praises. “Let me hear that fabulous voice of yours.” He spanks harder, and Adam has new appreciation for those big hands. He's barely aware of what's coming out of his mouth, little half-vocalized protests and whimpers as Jared keeps spanking. The hot-intense-too much pain washes over him all at once, and he wails pitifully.

“Oh god, please,” he hears himself beg. “Please, Jared, I—I can't—you have to stop, please!”

“You can take it,” Jared tells him.

Adam wails again. “No! I can't, I can't!” He can feel the first, hot tear slide down his cheek as Jared ignores him, keeps going.

It's Jensen's voice that responds to his outburst. “Adam. You can. Take deep breaths for me, okay?”

He obeys, breathing in, wishing he could feel Jensen's hands on him, soft and comforting where Jared is hard and punishing. “Okay,” he agrees.

“Good,” Jensen praises simply. “We don't mind if you make noise, do we Jay?” Jensen continues. Jared hums in agreement. “Right. But you can take this, can't you? For us?”

“I—I'll try,” Adam promises, trying and failing to concentrate on something other than the erratic rhythm of Jared's hand slamming into his ass. “Oh . . .” He bites his lip on a wail, but it comes out anyway, sounding like a perversion of one of his warm-up exercises. He blushes hot and another tear escapes his eye. “Hurts,” he moans.

“I know it does,” Jensen soothes, and how is he managing to be soothing from that far away, Adam would like to know? “But you can do this. I know you can.” Adam's breath hitches. “Think about Tommy. That's your bass player's name, right?”

“Yeah,” Adam sniffs.

“He ever do anything like this with you?” Jensen asks.

It almost distracts Adam from Jared's relentless spanking, but not quite. “N-no. But—but I thought about it.”

“Yeah?” Jensen asks. “Were you spanking him?”

“No,” Adam admits. “H-he was—he was spanking me.” Adam sucks in a breath and moans through a particularly harsh series of spanks from Jared. “He—he has these hands,” Adam explains, anticipating Jensen's next question. “They're really strong, you know. He plays all kinds of musical instruments, and his fingers—I just—they're so . . .” his voice breaks as Jared slams into his ass particularly hard. “Oh! God.”

“Do you want him to do this to you? Just hold you down with those strong hands and long, musicians fingers and really go at you?” Jensen asks, sounding genuinely interested in Adam's sexual fantasies.

Adam can't answer, just lets out a shriek and blinks away his tears. “I—Jensen!” It's a plea, and he hears Jensen get up, walk over, survey Jared's handiwork.

“Go harder,” Jensen instructs Jared.

Jared stops. “You know,” he pants, shaking out his hand. “I could go harder with a spatula, or a wooden spoon. D'you think?”

“Yeah, I think Misha or somebody left that one in here after the incident with the birthday cake,” Jensen says, sounding mellow. “Adam, you need to breathe for a minute, okay? Don't think about anything else, just breathe.”

Adam laughs at that, high and a little hysterical. He's bent over a table, pants around his knees, while one of the only men in the world who's taller than he is spanks his ass until it's red and raw. But he does breathe, if only to calm himself a little while he waits for the onslaught to start back up. He hears one of them, probably Jensen, put something down, and when he turns his head, there's a Flip camera staring him down. He moans and squeezes his eyes shut. He's probably fucked his eyeliner all to hell, probably looks like someone's fucked him up but good. Someone kind of has. His breathing hitches again. Jensen comes back and puts two spatulas in front of him. One is shorter, but metal, the other longer but plastic or rubber-coated.

“Pick one,” Jensen orders, leaving the camera where it is.

“Th-the rubber one,” Adam pants. He definitely wants that one, not the metal.

“Okay,” Jared nods, and his hand reaches over Adam's head to pick up the spatula. “Pick a number for me,” he instructs.

“I—I don't--”

“How many strokes?” Jensen fills in. “He wants to know how many strokes.”

“T-twenty?” Adam ventures.

“So good,” Jensen praises, and his gentle hand strokes Adam's hair out of his eyes. “Okay, whenever you're ready, Jay.”

Jared starts slow again, tapping the spatula carefully against Adam's ass until he gets a feel for how it swings. “Okay. Ready. Count for me, Adam.”

Air leaves Adam's lungs at that. He doesn't think he can, but he knows if he admits it, Jensen will just talk him through it some how, and he'll do it anyway. The first strike comes, and he squeals with it, unable to help it. His ass is already tender from Jared's hand, and he didn't expect the rubber to have that much sting to it. “Oh—oh!” he gasps. “Oh!”

“Count, Adam,” Jensen tells him, fingers tightening. “Count, or he'll start again.”

“O-one,” Adam manages. Jared hits him again. “T-t-two.” He's stuttering, and it's a horrific experience, he never stutters, always confident, but this—this is beyond what he can deal with. Another strike from the spatula and he's shaking as he counts three, then four. Somehow he makes it all the way to twenty, shaking and stammering and letting Jensen talk him through when he gets stuck at around thirteen and can't spit out the number without coaxing. “Twenty,” he manages, and as he says it, he can hear Jared dropping the spatula and shake out his wrist again. “No! No, no more, please, I can't--”

Again, Jensen quiets him. “Adam, you haven't said the magic word yet,” he explains. “Jared will stop, but we told you. You have to beg him.”

“Please!” Adam pleads. “Please, Jared, please! I can't—not anymore, you have—you have t-to st-stop, please! Please, stop!” He wails again, but Jared's stopping, rubs a soothing hand over Adam's ass and pats it gently—which only makes Adam wail again, tears flowing freely.

“There,” Jensen praises, smoothing back Adam's hair again. “You were so good, Adam.” He starts untying Adam's hands while Jared pulls Adam's jeans back up for him and refastens them. The ropes fall away and the two of them straighten him up and put him back in order. “Okay. You're okay. You were so good, Jay and I are never going to forget this. We totally owe you one, dude.”

Adam's barely listening. He's drifting off in that obedient headspace spanking always sends him to, and somehow Jensen notices and smiles, chuckling softly. “Jay, we gotta get him to the airport and on that plane. He'll never make it this way.”

*

Adam's still not sure how he made his flight, not sure how he found himself rattling around his house back in LA. He's also not sure who called Tommy and told him to come check on him, but he has his suspicions about Jensen going through his phone. Luckily, Tommy's seen him tripping out on way worse than the high of subspace—if that's even what you'd call this.

“What'd they give you in Vancouver?” he wonders as he puts Adam to bed. “Jesus. Just stay the fuck there, okay?”

“Okay.” He's totally going to explain everything in the morning. Maybe. Right now, all Adam wants is rest. And-- “Come snuggle,” he instructs, pulling on Tommy's wrist.

Tommy gives a long suffering sigh and lets himself be pulled into the bed. “Tomorrow you are so explaining those rope burns.”

“Okay,” Adam says again, and lets himself drift off.


End file.
